


Not Exactly

by citrusella



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: (the therapist is doing some sort of screening examination thing and steven is not here for it), Butterflies, Gen, Hallucinations, POV Second Person, Posted With Minimal Revision, Steven Universe Needs Therapy, Steven's powers potentially getting misinterpreted as delusions, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28921029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusella/pseuds/citrusella
Summary: You don't like this therapist.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 42
Collections: lofi fanfics to practice social distancing to





	Not Exactly

**Author's Note:**

> So I was reading up on something else and ended up reading some stuff about examining someone's mental health and came to questions being asked about you having powers and seeing things and stuff (for, like, delusions and hallucination and things) and thought to myself "geez, Steven might possibly answer these in a way that suggests some deep mental health issues even though he might have just meant 'yes, I can summon a shield, what about it'". And that was in my mind for several weeks and yesterday I got tired enough of trying to finish up a different thing that I said to myself "next writing session I'm getting the weird mental health examination interview idea out of the way".
> 
> And that's what this is. I wrote it in like 30 minutes and basically didn't edit it at all (I ran it through Word's grammar checker but had it ignore everything because it was stuff like fragments and passive voice and stuff).
> 
> Um... have fun? XD

You exchange niceties.

Or maybe they're not niceties. Maybe she's just sizing you up.

(You don't like this therapist.)

Because the questions start innocuous enough.

"How are you?"  
"What's your name?"  
"What brings you here today?"  
"Tell me a little about yourself."

But then it's like every question is an attempt to pry you open, expose a new layer you're not keen on anyone seeing.

"How long would you say you've felt that way?"  
"Do you ever do specific things to lessen the chance of something you think will happen?"  
"Do you feel or think that you wish someone was dead?"

(You don't like this therapist.)

And you try, _you try_ , to answer honestly, to the best of your ability, but they dig deeper, as if they're specifically intended to weed out something about _you_.

"Do you have any special powers or abilities?"

(Seriously?) "Yes." (You don't elaborate.)

"Do you ever get special messages, from the radio or the TV?"

(…What does she know about you?) "…Yes." (She… _can't_ know about the technology thing, right? How many people could have possibly caught it in action?)

"Do you see things other people can't see?"

You look up from your clasped hands. You focus on her nose. The glowing white butterfly on her nose. On her hair. On her chair, on the shelf, the windowsill, the table, the desk, her diploma.

They're everywhere, everywhere. The room's not dark, but the way they cast weird light in different directions make it seem like it is, like they're the only illumination as their bright white wings' reflections bounce off walls, picture frames, the shiny polished stained wood furniture, like they'd bounce off your gem if your shirt rode up.

(You don't like this therapist.)

"Yes."


End file.
